meant to be therea curtain seperates you from my thoughtsmeant to be there
hard wood, boughing, beige, delicate patches and pinpricks let the light through,
they let some of you through
i'm waiting and you're waiting
a whispy strand of your hair, it's meant to be there only significant, of course when i don't notice and shut my eyes, so you shut yours
i'm wishing and you're wishing
now don't ever leave
a stop, a beginningalive, but motionless they are breathing, blinking seeing for the first timea stop, a beginning
two parallel lines contrive, contract,
and cover themselves needlessly
until suddenly,
but not unexpectedly a stop:
a beginning which is peculiar,
though has yet been longed for and will be
without doubt
ribsthe slightest flick of your wrist can send a twinge Shoots up my spineribs
it's welcome just above my ribs succumbing, instantaneous
and for one second my eyes, my neck a refusal
and for one second, i can feel you feeling it too
our gazes together, penitent until they re-align
and we cognize
luckyin a mist, a haze of fruitlucky
and spice-dust you can touch feathers open tiny boxes un-tie string and rope tie it up again
staircase carpeted through the middle watches over an empty corridoor once vacated now filled with pink light and the sound of you leaking through
you're rushing to the top, stop. on the third step you perch don't topple,
the walls will break
let them, let them. cru
--
"You're not sane are you?"
"To be sane would be to be normal and that's the one thing I'd rather not be. "
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